Old Wolves
by Axolotlmann
Summary: Old Wolves die without dignity


Old wolves die without dignity.

Their whole life they have been warriors and when their bones become brittle and their muscles lose their strength, they don't know what to do with themselves any more.

Then nothing remains for them, than to crawl into a cave and die miserably, remembering the battles and deeds of their youth.

Once upon a time, no one could hold a candle to me. In a wilder, better time, an older world where the people still feared the darkness and people were still dreaming, I had power.

Yes, at that time no one dared to even whisper my name, out of fear I would visit them in their dreams. The sunflower, my symbol, became a symbol of terror, of hate, but no one dared to destroy one, out of fear to invoke my wrath.

The Terrible, they called me, a sadistic monster, the flower master of the four seasons, the Youkai lurking in the dreams, the sleeping terror, she who kills with a pleasant smile on her face.

I have survived through the centuries, won victories, suffered defeats and made many enemies. I have survived battles and natural disasters; I was worshipped, hated, hunted and loved.

I survived and I became strong. I've wiped out armies and feasted for weeks on their bodies and I have challenged and devoured the most powerful Youkai of their times, just to nourish my own power,

I am Yuuka Kazami, the flower that never withers and death to the fool who dares to arouse my anger.

But that was then and now, this very day...

... Today I did what I always did. I was sitting alone at a round table in the middle of my sunflower field and drank a cup of tea while I stared up at the blue sky and indulged in past glory.

That's the curse of us long-lived beings, we tend to melancholy. As Yukari Yakumo created Gensokyo, she formed a safe haven for Youkai, a place where people dreamed and logic had no place, a place where magic could still exist free and unbound.

What she did not realize was that it would be so damn boring.

Since Gensokyo is quite small and the people are required to maintain the balance, it is forbidden to eat them all and the spell card duels are no replacement for real combat.

Live just lacks something when you can not triumph over the bloody corpse of a worthy opponent and feast on his flesh.

In this new world, it is no longer about strength, the glory of the ancient world has passed and what remained is a peaceful paradise, a haven for the Youkai who had no place in the outside world, a place of endless festivities and leisure.

It makes me sick.

I share these feelings with many of the older Youkai, like the vampire from the Red Mansion, the Four Devas of the Oni, old Tenma from the mountain, the two scheming gods and maybe even Yakumo and the nine-tailed fox that follows her everywhere.

We all have been forged in the old world, to the Youkai of the legends we are today. Peace and security are not in our nature, the century's long struggle for survival has caused this.

I feel that being here dulls my senses, eats away my strength and turns me into a tea- drinking fool. Is this perhaps a Yakumos fault? A plan to lull the mightiest of the Youkai in a false sense of security and subdue them?

No. I was there.

I too have seen the decay, the end of so many powerful Youkai and the steady disappearance of magic. First the weaker ones of us died, those who were not able to pass as human.

When the magic continued to disappear they died one after another.

Then the fairies. Annoying as they may be, but they are personifications of nature in its purest form, avatars of the spring water or the forest itself, or even of snowfall or the light.

I'm probably one of the few older Youkai who has a good relationship with the little pests, even if it is just because I am also a kind of nature spirit.

It is impossible to kill a fairy, because they are aspects of the world itself and will last as long as the nature survives.

As humans became more dominant, evergreen forests disappeared, the pure water was polluted and even the starlight became weaker and weaker, they also died one after another.

The cheerful, childlike pests and pranksters first, then the higher Elementals and Nature Spirits and at last even Oberon, the King, died in the arms of his beloved Titania.

I was there when the fairy queen, half-mad with grief, vowed eternal revenge on the humans and the forces of nature itself rebelled against them and I was there when she took her last breath.

The Tengu tribes were shot out of the sky and driven from cliffs.

The Oni, brutal but honourable were, one after another, put down by superior numbers and their horns worn as trophies.

The Inugami, proud and regal, refused to flee and abandon control of their land, until the last Inu no Taisho fell powerless to the ground.

The Kitsune and Tanuki, tricksters and liars tried to mix with the people, but the disappearance of the magic affected them too and they died slowly out, when their puppies were born dead and without magic.

The old gods lost their followers and disappeared from the world, because without faith they can no more be reality.

It's been ages since I have seen a dragon or challenged a God in his own temple, to see his worshippers succumb to despair when he died.

That's why I'm here in Gensokyo, sitting in a field of sunflowers and drinking tea while I mourn my long passed, glorious youth.

Because Yukari Yakumo was right.

I'm not as impatient and wild as I once was and Yakumo is the only Youkai whose strength I can never reach. I killed dragons and fought the Inu no Taisho, I destroyed Vampires permanently. I once even fought against Titania and felt the power of nature itself, but no one defeated me as humiliating as the Youkai of boundaries.

She's the only one I've ever really accepted as stronger, someone I can not defeat even after centuries and probably never will.

It seems to admit such a thing is against my nature, but Yukari Yakumo itself is against all nature. That's why I followed her to Gensokyo. And I admit, it was what saved my life.

Nevertheless, my hot Youkai-blood is calling for battle, for challenges and for blood. Even for such an old Youkai like me, it's hard to ignore this call.

For many I am the Youkai of flowers, who is able to let every kind of plant bloom and guardian of the beauty of all four seasons.

That's only half the story.

I'm a Youkai, born out of a flowering dream, a Youkai of sleep, oblivion and the unreal, flowery world of dreams.

The dream world reaches all universes, and those who get lost there, will never return again.

I am the Mistress of Mugenkan, the guardian of all dreams and the personification of the emerald dream, from which all other dreams are born, whether they belong to humans or Youkai.

But certainly I am also a Youkai of flowers. Beautiful, innocent and lovely flowers. It is after all innocence, from which the worst monsters are born, is it not?

A horrible grin creeps up on my face when I think back to that moment. Sharp, shark-like teeth are glistening in the sunlight and the sunflowers rustle, as they feel the cruel pleasure of their mistress, the cruel joy as I remember the moment of my birth, a glorious moment of absolute despair and the terrible end of an unreal dream.

Like all stories it begins with something simple, something as innocent as a flower. No ordinary flower of course that would be too easy.

It was a sunflower, surrounded by many other sunflowers. It was said, these sunflowers were blessed by a good God, because they radiated throughout the year brighter than any ordinary sunflower. When the sun's rays fell on them then they threw back the light, as if they were little suns themselves.

The god of the seasons had blessed these flowers, and he had blessed them with his warmth. The people realized this and they worshipped these beautiful flowers for their otherworldly glow.

Nearby lived a powerful human lord, a noble and proud man, who, with the blessing of the God, had a rich and fulfilling life. His soldiers were loyal to him, his lands threw off lush tribute and his subjects were happy.

The blessings of this good God made the country prosper and the lord reaped the laurels for it.

That's why I do not like humans; they forget all too quickly that there are things in this world that they can never comprehend in their pitiful mind.

Now this lord had a wife, though pretty, a terribly superficial person who only wanted her own power and influence to increase.

The lord wanted nothing more than a child, but no matter what he and his wife tried, she was not pregnant. What the lord did not know was that his wife secretly took herbs to kill the children, before they could grow in her, because she herself did not want to share her beauty and her position at the side of the lord with a child.

It came to pass that a Youkai wandered through the area, a witch of considerable power. Kazami she was called and she was a creature that was created from the dreams of humans.

Of course, nothing as strong as I, because I am the Mistress of Mugenkan and thus control a large part of the dream world, that is much more complicated and larger than anything that a mortal mind can imagine which is why I won't waste time to explain it.

Kazami was rather an aspect of wishful thinking and as we all know those, who actually have everything, are those who want the most. And so she was attracted by the wishes of the lord and the dreams of his wife like a moth to a flame, because as a lower Youkai of Dreams she fed on the desperation of the people, when their dreams were fulfilled.

The lord also heard of her witchcraft and begged her to help his wife conceive. No Youkai who deserves that name would ever help a man out of sheer goodness of heart and that's why they struck a deal.

She demanded to marry the child on its sixteenth birthday.

Honestly, I have not the faintest idea why exactly she has demanded that. Perhaps she was bored? Or she wanted to harm the lord?

Either way, the prince was desperate enough to trade, although experience should have taught people that it is unwise to make a deal with a spirit of any kind, and certainly not, with a Youkai like Kazami whose very nature was deceptive.

So Kazami bewitched the wife of the prince with a spell that would keep the child alive when it was received and set out again with the promise to be back at the sixteenth birthday of the child.

In his joy the lord had not told his wife anything about it, but also did Kazami not know that the woman killed the unborn children themselves.

So when the lord's wife noticed, that she was pregnant, she tried again to kill the child with certain herbal blends.

The magic Kazami had woven however fought the poison and kept the child alive. The mother panicked and tried it again and again, so that she not only damaged the child, but also her own body. The magic was not strong enough to ward off these attacks, so it ate the mother's life force away to keep the child alive.

And so it continued until the mother could no longer endure the constant herbs and her magic was wasted away by the magic and became ill. The magic, however, willing to keep the child at any cost alive, let the child be born prematurely to save it, and let the mother die in terrible pain.

The child itself, however, a little girl, was born weak and sickly. It was very unlikely that she would live to see her first birthday, because the herbs and the early birth had weakened her enormously.

Consumed by grief the lord cursed Kazami and blamed her for this tragedy. In desperation, he sought a rescue for his only child and brought her to the sunflower field, in which the god of the seasons lived and prayed to save her.

The God decided to help and said he wanted to save his daughter, if he would offer a suitable sacrifice. And the prince said: "Whatever you ask, of all that is mine, it is yours."

The God wanted the hand of the princess; because he knew she was once destined for greatness.

That she was, but certainly not the way he had imagined it, I think.

And the prince accepted because he felt betrayed by Kazami and hoped that the power of God would keep her away.

In addition, the child was a girl. Now he did not understand that for spirits human values are at best worthless. Kazami wanted the child and the child's sex was totally insignificant to her.

The girl survived, a joyful and happy young thing with dark green hair and beautiful brown eyes. She was very intelligent and full of dreams, a truly cute child.

He called her Yuuka.

Kazami was understandably angry, extremely angry even. It is already stupid enough to make a deal with a Youkai, but to cheat this Youkai is a certain death sentence. And it is certainly not a nice death, but a long path of vengeance where only damnation lies at the end.

Kazami came into the dreams of the lord, whispered to him cruel lies and half-truths, and showed him his dead wife, whom he had killed with his foolishness. She drove him to the brink of madness, so much that he could not bear to even look at small Yuuka.

Now Kazami intruded in her dreams too, sent her dreams of blood and death, of terrible horror and every time the lonely little Yuuka was crying herself to sleep, the dreams came again, whispering of terrible things and that was what broke the little girl before her tenth birthday.

In her loneliness there was nothing what protected her from the whispers of the Youkai, who remained the girls sole caregiver from an early age on. Yuuka was cruel and solitary and rebuilt her broken psyche after Kazamis image as she grew up.

She was outwardly still beautiful and friendly. Guests of the lord said she was one of the sweetest girls they had ever seen and although Kazami kept her father away from her, she was loved by the staff.

Inside, however, she was rotten to the core. She killed her first human with twelve years. It was a maid, just a few years older than she was. A sweet thing, so nervous and happy about the honour to serve the Princess. Yuuka let her suffer. She felt powerful to have such absolute control over life.

This child was indeed a human being, but her mind was that of a Youkai. Power is everything. Of course, the execution was sloppy, to kill the weak to feel powerful is something that humans do, it is pathetic and embarrassing for any higher Youkai, but Yuuka was still a child.

Kazami now was a pretty lowly Youkai and she had underestimated the autonomy of the child. She took manipulation too far and lost control.

The child should not be a violent murderer, just a lonely little sociopath. She still was, but now the independence of the girl had cluttered Kazamis plans.

The barriers in the mind of the girl were exacerbated by her madness and so Kazami was caught in Yuuka dreams. Her own bloody and awful dreams were so much worse than anything Kazami could have inspired in her.

A bumbling amateur mistake. Everyone makes mistakes, this is normal but then one should at least be present in order to iron it out. Kazami was caught and so the violent escapades of Yuuka continued.

She was a child and drunk on power, therefore she was not particularly subtle or cautious. Her father tried to cover up the first few incidents, but soon the murders were getting much more cruel and people were crying out for retribution.

On her sixteenth birthday Yuuka was careless and she was seen while she was trying to kill a girl from the neighbourhood. The God of Flowers, who had come to pick up his prize, prevented the murder. He was shocked and confused, not understanding the situation and looked stunned at the panicking, like an animal growling, girl.

In her panic, the barriers in her mind lowered and Kazami saw an opportunity to escape. Had she simply tried break free, her mind would have been freed and she could have fled and everything would have been different. She could have reshaped her body and planned her revenge.

But Kazami tried to destroy the girl's mind and replace it with her own. The god was perhaps a bit slow, but he was not stupid, and even a lower God will recognize a Youkai when he sees it. So he attacked.

While Kazami still mentally wrestled with Yuuka, the God gathered his strength to kill both.

Kazami was too busy to notice it, but Yuuka saw it and it gave her the strength not only to imprison Kazami again, but to completely destroy her mind. The dream world in which Kazamis power was trapped broke and her power was discharged in Yuukas body.

Of course, the power of a Youkai is much too large for a human vessel, which is why it ends in the destruction of the vessel and, if the will of the people is strong enough, the reconstruction of the body as that of a Youkai

For magicians for example it is part of their evolution, when they evolve from lowly humans to proud Youkai. But if other Youkai are born this way, the procedure is associated with a lot of uncontrolled magic and severe pain, resulting in a wild frenzy.

In half-Youkai whose demonic nature is very strong, this can even happen quite frequently.

However Yuuka was just a human and turned completely. So she jumped to the god's throat and began to feast on his entrails. Out of pure instinct she drove into his head and snatched the power that he had gathered and as the demonic and the divine energy was combined with the twisted and demented mind of the girl it was too much.

The whole area exploded. Lord, land, people, flowers and Yuuka passed in one giant explosion. And in the end a Youkai woke up.

Nice story isn't it? I figured it out from stories and the tales of the few survivors.

I only know that I woke up in a giant crater and I knew my name and my mind. Yuuka Kazami. The Youkai of a flowery dream. The Youkai of dreams that never come true, of flowers that have no meaning, and those dreams that are forgotten before the awakening.

Of course, I was not immediately powerful. Long before I had acquired my rule over Mugenkan and was Mistress of the border of all dreams, I was a simple Youkai, with the power over flowers. An innocent-sounding power and yet so easily corrupted.

I survived because I was crueler, craftier and more brutal than all others and now I am old. Old and strong.

A really interesting story.

"And yet most of it is a lie."

Without turning I fire a magical energy beam in the direction from which the voice came from, strong enough to destroy a smaller village. My sunflowers are immune to my magic and everything else that was in the way was collateral damage .

Again the voice sounds, and I sigh audibly.

"Be careful with that, you could have killed me, you know?"

Maybe I should just ignore her? No, it never works.

"If that would have killed you, you would be no longer worthy of your title, Yakumo" I reply instead.

"Probably true," said the tall, blonde woman as she emerges from a crack in reality and sits down in the chair opposite me.

I do not even lift an eyebrow. If you're one of the more important people in Gensokyo, then you get sooner or later used to Yakumos cheeky and childish behaviour.

What you must never forget is just that under this playful and irritating behaviour exists a mind, which is thinking simultaneously on several levels, whose simple existence I could not even comprehend. Behind her violet eyes twinkles a threat that has to do with more than just brute force.

Violet eyes, burning with a mischievous fire looked deep into my own red ones.

"You're a liar, Yuuka," she says bluntly.

I shrug. "I'm a Youkai. It is unwise to trust us. "

She raises an eyebrow. "Was there anything true to your story, at all?"

I look up at the sky and drink a sip of tea, which has become cold.

"Who knows? Perhaps there was once a little girl named Yuuka. But perhaps it was all just a dream. Maybe it was only a story. "

I look back at Yakumo.

"How do you even get through my barriers?"

The sunflower maze in which I live and where the entrance to Mugenkan was hidden, was not just an ordinary maze. Many powerful spells were woven into these flowers, which should lead every wanderer to his doom.

Yukari laughs. "They are barriers Yuuka and thus borders. This means they fall into my sphere of influence. "

I shrug my shoulders again. There are things you can't argue against.

"You're a liar, Yuuka, a monster, an ancient Youkai. Your titles and names are as numerous as they are impressive, yet you are absolutely helpless. What a terrible feeling. Old wolves, truly."

Her smile now has something cruel in itself. I growl and show my sharp shark-like teeth. Youkai are prideful and none of us likes to be called weak. How dare this old hag to come here and insult me?

But then she talks again, with a kind of deep sadness in her voice that makes me stop.

"We are all so helpless, even I. What remains for us? Gensokyo? But for how long can I maintain this system? In this world there is no place for us. It has become too small. "

I look into Yukaris eyes and see there the same thoughts that plague me too. For the Youkai remains nothing but the memory of past greatness. Our time is over and will never return. Humanity needs us no more, we are left with no other choice than to die.

"The world is big enough," I say. "It only has less to offer."

Yukari snorted. "A liar and a thief, I wonder how you know?"

"Mugenkan borders on all worlds. I wander through the dreams of humans and Youkai. Sometimes you see things", I reply, shrugging.

"Mugenkan, yes," said Yukari. "The border of all dreams, the emerald dream, where all dreams emerge. It was good to trust you Yuuka. I could not imagine a better guardian. "

"The dream is connected to all the worlds," I say. "He is, however, closer to the world of the dead than of the living. I can hear the ghosts of the past sing and when I look into our future, I see nothing but blackness. Sooner or later, even we immortals will have to appear before the Yama. As the lasts', as we were the firsts' once. "

Yukari nodded. "I can already hear Shikieiki nagging."

We both shuddered. The judge of the dead, the Yama Shikieiki Yamaxanadu was a pain in the ass, especially for us older Youkai, for we had committed many crimes in our lives and really did not intend to stop.

We can not stand her and she does not like us.

Although I myself have a preference for their Shinigami. They are worthy opponents and few fights had my blood boiling so hot as the ones I fought against Shinigami. I kept even one of them; she serves me now as the guardian for Mugenkan.

A grin spreads over my face when I remember the glorious battle and her defeated and broken shape after our days of bloodshed, when she vowed loyalty to me.

Yukari shakes his head sadly. "Maybe that's really all that remains. Farewell Yuuka. "

With that, she opens a tear in reality and disappears.

For a moment, I'm staying still, before I realize, what she said, what I have done again.

With a frustrated cry I raise my hands and unleash a wave of destructive power in the region, destroying everything in its path, whether table or sunflower. Even my wards are swept away by the destructive energy.

All that remains is a deep, smoking crater several hundred meters in length. In the centre of it I bury my head in my hands and for the first time in my long life I cry bloody tears.

Slowly the red liquid is running down my cheeks, dripping on my hands and on the scorched earth where the blood evaporates in the still smouldering heat of magic with a hiss.

I weep for our lost past and our vanishing future, I weep over my own weakness, the weakness of all Youkai whose future is slowly disappearing, while we indulge in our glorious past.

And I weep for Gensokyo whose paradisiacal idyll is nothing but an illusion to disguise its true purpose.

It is a grave.

A grave for dreams, for legends, for magic, for the gods and youkai, for all those for whom there is no space in the new world of man.

A grave for me.

Old wolves die without dignity. Their whole life they have been warriors and when they realize their own powerlessness only despair remains.

They die alone and forgotten.


End file.
